


Snow Turned Avalanche and Maybe Something Worse

by Lulaypp



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: (the latter two popping in the second chapter), Blood, Cass and Dami and Tim and Steph are not too prominent, Gen, Hurt Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Near Drowning, Protective Siblings, There are no actual snow or avalanche just saying, Torture, Whump, but he just wants head pats and hair carding, concussion, electricity torture, injuries, probably not really realistic or medically accurate?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27762193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lulaypp/pseuds/Lulaypp
Summary: Some nights just really don't go as planned. Sometimes for the better. This time for the worse. Grasping onto determination, Jason didn't back down. Never would he give in. There are two things about avalanches: They can be (highly are) deadly and persistent; They would always fall. Always.
Relationships: Batfamily Members & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Dick Grayson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 251





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. This is what I call the results of study stress and annoyance. I mean, what better ways to deal with those than writing and editing something torturous (reading something good and torturous is definitely better but it was a weekday so what to do).
> 
> Warnings as listed above in the tags. Read them before going further and if there is something you are uncomfortable with or triggering, I encourage you to leave. Jason is the only person I want to hurt with this piece of fiction.
> 
> Otherwise, have fun.

Jason tried tugging at his restrains again. They held tight. Just as they had been doing for what must have been the past hour. His wrists were bound to the arms of the chair by some sort of thick, tight cuffs and his ankles to the legs. And from the feels of it, the chair itself was either extremely heavy, or attached to the floor. He honestly couldn't tell with the thick blindfold obscuring his vision, but he's betting on the latter as the chair should have tipped over from that strong blow to his chest. The fact that it was still upright should mean something. He could hear the unmistakable sound of the crowbar dragging across the floor with a metallic screech. He didn't flinch. Not physically.

"Just tell me how you know about my work, Red Hood, and this would not go any further. Just when are you going to cave?" The voice spoke before him. The leader of gaggle of people who managed to catch him. Brian Snow, lately calling himself Avalanche for some reason or other. Jason feels like it was a bit of a dramatic name, but he wouldn't judge. There was a time he thought the name Superman was odd.

Oracle had sent him some leads that morning about Snow and his operations and the information had led to Red Hood sneaking into an abandoned factory early into the night. He had sucessfully slipped in but not everything goes to plan as he was taken down suprisingly quick. It hurts, both his reputation and his body. The henchmen were literally going for his head.

He doubted that he was now held in the factory; he assumed that they must have moved him somewhere else while he was out. Gotham crime bosses were many things, but they were not generally stupid enough to not know that if you catch one Bat, you're calling for the rest of the flock, and so staying at the place where you took down said Bat might not be a good idea. And while Red Hood would never put himself as one, he has already been seen by the criminal underworld as part of the clan after one too many team-ups and rescue missions.

"Sorry to disappoint-" Red Hood could feel blood in his mouth, the scent stinging. "-but I don't do caves. You can even ask the rest of the brood. They know how much I hate it."

"Ah yes, the infamous Batcave. One Batman is said to reside in. It is not an actual cave isn't it?"

"Me to know, you to find out." The crowbar struck his head, making his ears ring.

"But you know where it is don't you?" He doesn't like where this was going. "Yes. I believe you should." Snow's tone turned thoughtful as footsteps paced around him.

Jason _did not_ like this. "If you think you can take it out of me, then you're dead wrong," he growled.

He supressed a startled jump as the crowbar jabbed into his chest. "I'll take that as a challenge." The metal was gone. Before it slammed onto his leg. He gritted his teeth.

He had sent out the distress beacon to the Bats when he was losing the fight earlier at the factory. They _would_ come soon. He just needed to hold himself together until then; which, while painful, should not be too hard. Although, he could do without the stupid crowbar.

-

Jason ground his teeth into his tongue as a knife dragged across his arm, his hands clenched into fists. He wouldn't make a noise. He wouldn't. He had had training with Talia and the League on withstanding torture. He can tolerate it. Stand through it. But there were minor things in life that can tear any training out of anyone. In his situation, it would be the stupid crowbar.

The metal slammed onto his dislocated shoulder again as he bit back a hiss.  
"You really are holding up aren't you? Not giving up anytime soon?"

"Bite... me," he snarled between breaths. Something was definitely poking against his lungs and he just hope it hasn't punctured anything.

"Then I guess it is a battle of wills. See who is more stubborn than the other. And trust me, they call me Avalanche for a reason."

Mischief pulled at his lips. "Because you'll eventually fall?"

The blow to his head was worth it.  
The zap of electricity that followed probably wasn't. Especially with what it brought.

He barely managed to swallow the cry into a hiss as electricity jolted through him, leaving his head reeling.

"You do not get to make fun of me," Snow hissed, the metal prongs of a stun gun digging into Jason's shoulder.

Jason couldn't help himself; he blamed Dick's ridiculous sense of humour and his pain tinged mind for it. "How about a pun instead?"

There was a frustrated snarl as the stun gun zapped again into shoulder and he clenched his fists as his body jerked and spasmed. It went as quickly as it came, switching places with the blade. The knife never really went deep, merely breaking the surface, leaving dripping trails of red.

-

Blood spilled into his mouth and Jason coughed it out. His head was constantly thrumming and ringing, spinning and aching.

"Not giving in yet?"

Red Hood snarled. He was tired. Exhausted and hurting. The torture had been alternating between blows, stabs and electricity and everything was turning rather muddy. He hoped nothing ended up being permanently damaging. He could already tell that his mind might not come out unscathed.

A hand yanked his head back by his hair, drawing out a hiss. "I don't know if you're being incredibly stupid or just really stubborn."

"...been told... both."

A scoff. "Wouldn't be surprised. But I will get through you eventually. Mark my words, you will break by my hands."

"I 'nestly, doubt it." Jason was too drained to give a more creative retort but he kept on talking, stalling for time and distracting his mind from the bundle of pain. He knew that if he let himself dwell on the aches laying all over his body for too long, his defense would start to crumble.

"Cocky, arrogant. You really grate on my nerves."

"Glad... to know th'feelin's... mutual." His head was shoved harshly and he distantly felt the beginings of a neckache. _That will cause a brilliant migrane_ , he thought bitterly.

"What else... what else..." Snow's footsteps paced in front of him, muttering under his breath. There was some seconds of a pause before he sounded thoughtful, "Yes... yes... of course."

Jason did not like the sound of that. He could hear the excited gleam in the voice and that could only spell bad, if not horrendous, time for him. "And you wouldn't mind sharing your thoughts now, would you?" Deep inside, he's scared.

"You’ll find out soon enough. I've never done it before myself, but I've seen it being done a plenty to know that it will work. Quite an efficient mind and will breaker."

-

So, apparently whatever that was planned couldn't done with Red Hood still cuffed to the chair. Snow had called in some of his men and Jason was manhandled out of the chair and onto his knees with his hands trapped behind him, cuffed from the feels of it. He caught the sound of something heavy being dragged close.

Jason has always been scared of the dark ever since he woke up from the dead in the inky blackness of his coffin, but now with the threat of an unknown torture hanging over him and the blindfold doing a brilliant job at blocking out any streaks of light, he really _really_ despised being robbed off his vision. He ground his teeth to still his panic and fear, swirling and bubbling.

There was a sharp splash that nearly made him flinch sharply. Nearly. It didn’t take a Batman or Red Robin to figure out what was going to happen now. Red Hood's been forced through it before, once. But he had managed to escape then, before it went too far in.

He tried twisting out of the hands holding his arms, but they clung on tight. He was weakened by the injuries scattered all over him, unable to put too much of a struggle; a shifting his broken arm painfully forcing him to stop. A chuckle came from Snow. "I hope that isn't fear I see."

Red Hood spat out a curse, glowering at the man; Bat and League training allowing him to be able to estimate his oppoment's position even when blindfolded.

A hand snatched his hair, tugging at the wounds on his head, pulling out a hiss. "I feel like I am also reading a bit of desperation on you." Snow sounded amused.

And Jason honestly hated it. People studying and analyzing him like some sort of experiment for observation. He hated it whenever Bruce and Tim used to do it; they still sometimes do it but it was less frequent, at least not with him noticing; and he despised it even more when his enemies did it. He's not a lab rat or a book to observe and read and do emotional and psycological researches on.

He jerked his head out of the hold and swiftly bit the hand hard. Out of sheer spite, if not for self-defense. There was a satisfying startled yell of pain and shock and he ground his teeth harder when the limb tried to pull away, hearing and feeling a crunch as blood seeped into his mouth with the musty scent of iron. The people around him fell into a mess of chaos and he revelled in it. The panicked frenzy that erupted, the lack of order he caused. He kept his jaws locked even as hands tried to tug him away and ignored the threats and blows showering him.

He was too distracted to notice the stab of the stun gun until a powerful jolt of electricity made him scream. Lights flashed in his eyes as he screwed them shut. The device drilled into the wound in his arm, sending sparks of pain everywhere. Breathing narrowed down to stuttering wheezes as he spasmed.

When it finally stopped, his headache came back tenfold, as he dropped limp onto the ground, a moan threatening to spill out from his throat. His ears rung and screeched as his dark vision sparked dots of lights and blobs. He coughed, feeling more blood pooling in his mouth as well as flowing from the wound on his arm. Even with the _thing_ gone, it still stung all over.

He hardly managed to supress the flinch when a voice broke through his head, "Want to try that again?" Snow's threat was lightly tinged with pain.

Jason retorted with a tired snarl, too drained to trust himself to give a verbal response without showing further signs of weakness. Exhaustion and pain tingled and throbbed everywhere.

Hands pulled his arms again, dragging him back up, before fingers yanked his head up. "Then I can trust you to behave?

He gave a low growl, glaring, but didn't fight.

"So, one more chance before we start, Red Hood. I will give you the option of choosing any of the three questions that you have been unwilling to answer. Tell me either who is the Batman, where is the so-called Batcave or how do you know of my operations?"

 _His dad, underneath his old home, his sister told him_ , he answered in his mind, but never out loud. He wouldn't give them anything. Not even if he had to die again and return to live his third life. Not even over his double dead body.

He took a breath, ready for the retaliation that would surely come after. "Go to h-"

His head was shoved down, hitting through cold water. He had hoped that he would be given more time to prepare himself. That Snow would probably pull off a monologue of sorts before plunging him in.

He kept his breath. Kept his mind calm. But seconds quickly turned to minutes. Minutes without oxygen. His lungs burned and insticts pushed him to struggle. He pulled and twisted against the hands holding him still and the fingers keeping his head under; not particularly caring for broken bones and bleeding wounds in his desperation. The grip in his hair tightened. For a moment he feared that his body would go against him and inhale the water, but he was pulled out before it could.

Breathe. He breathed in a gulp of air even as his chest protested. It felt wonderful and horrible at the same time.

"Giving in?"

Jason glared at the man, knowing it would still be evident with the blindfold. He was more prepared this time when water crashed into him again. It wasn't long, however, before they pulled his head from the tub. But he didn't even get a chance to breathe before he was forced in again and he barely managed to stop himself from gasping.

This time it was long enough for his lungs to scream before he was dragged out for air. Though only a trickle of oxygen was allowed in before they pushed him back down. He gritted his teeth, feeling the slight sting of water slipping into his nose. Again, he jerked and twisted. Again, they pulled him out just as his body was about to give in. He breathed in carefully, afraid that they are going to push him back in at any moment.

The hand holding his hair twisted further, pulling out a hiss. "Not done being stubborn aren't you?"

Jason coughed violently, blood flowing into his mouth and down his lips. "Same coul' b'said f'r you," he shot back tiredly, trying to make himself sound as intimidating as possible. It was starting to get cold, the water was splashing and dripping onto the rest of his body as his head was drenched.

"Like I said, battle of wills. But I don't see myself giving up anytime soon. But you. Pain can break a person, desperation can do just as much if not more. And I'm afraid you are not in a very fortunate position."

Before he could retort, the hand shoved his head down. He struggled as his chest twinged and burned. He was pulled up only for a second before he went under again. A sharp sudden pain erupted from his wrist and he cried out, his vision going white. Water had no mercy as it took the opportunity and shot into him. He pulled and jerked desperately and it was seconds before his burning lungs could breathe air again. Once, a choked cough, twice, and he's forced back down.

Jason couldn't to stop himself from breathing in underwater as his lungs screeched and water eventually entered his airway. He surfaced with a bout of coughs and gasps, his head reeling and ringing. He was shoved back under.

It all eventually blurred together. Water, air. Under, out. Never breathing in more than a fraction of a gasp. At least not air. The liquid was relentless. When he finally could breathe lungfuls, wet coughs spluttered through him. His lungs were beyond hurting, his head felt like it was getting squeezed. Everything was floaty, foggy and too painful.

"Now?" Snow's voice sounded hazy and distant.

Jason couldn't reply if he wanted to. His throat was grating with every breath and another bout of agonising coughs racked through him, rattling his body as he tried to curl up despite the hands holding him. Every inch, every nerve, cell and fibre of his being was burning and sore. A whimper threatened to escape, but he held it down with all his might. They may try to drown him, torture him, but they would not get the satisfaction of knowing how much they were wearing him down.

He was crashed into the water again. His struggles were futile as they held tight, letting him come up for only a second after multiples of being under. It grew hazy and blurry. Incoherent. Especially after they held him long enough for him to almost drown and pass out. He still tried to hold his mind strong. Sheer determination and principal making sure he would not break. He wouldn't. He's Red Hood, former Robin. He wouldn't break this easily.

It felt like hours, a perpetual and unrelenting, yet inconsistent in timing, cycle as the hand forced him under and pulled him out. His head reeled and warped and he wasn’t quite able to always tell when he was being sumberged and when he wasn’t. He just knew that it hurt and burned and was agonising to a blinding, shattering degree. His body felt constantly cold and numb and painful at the same time.

The world suddenly became clearer and it took a while before he realised that he was breathing cool air again. Well, gasping and choking would be more accurate. Once, twice, thrice. There were no hands holding him, even if he can still feel the cuffs tight around his wrists. He couldn't stop the shiver that ran through him as he curled up on the ground. The pain all over his body was starting to come back to him in full force. His left wrist felt wrong and torn and his whole chest ached from inside out. His leg was one giant bursting volcano of agony and his head banged and rattled and throbbed as the ringing echoed and warped. His lungs felt like they were shrinking, collapsing. A quiet, trembling moan tumbled from his lips.

There were distant sounds of chaos coming from everywhere. Yells, gunshots, panic. It was terribly loud as it joined the banging cacophony of sounds in his head, adding to the headache. He wanted it to just stop. It hurts a lot. Voices grew closer and he jerked back when he felt something reaching for him, a weak snarl threatening whoever who came too close, only to be dwarfed by the relentless shivering.

But the voice wasn't harsh and gloating. It was coaxing, soft, concerned and, above all else, familliar.

He didn't take any chances, however, afraid that his mind was desperate and suffering enough to try to fool him, conjuring things that were not there.

But the gloved hand that reached him before his sluggish reflexes could react was gentle, slowly running down the back of his head until fingers tugged off the blindfold. The darkness suddenly disappeared as light shot through his eyes. He immediately screwed them shut, a moan involuntarily escaping him. The light burned even with his eyes closed.

A shadow casted above him as words managed to pass through the noise clanging in his head. "Hood. We're here. Open eyes, please?"

He knew the voice. Cass. He slowly peeled his eyes open. The slips of light still stung but it was more bearable now that Black Bat was shielding him from most of it. He looked around the room for the first time, finding unconscious men and abandoned weapons littering the place. The sounds of fighting was dying down even if the noise in his head wasn't.

Robin was suddenly there as well, kneeling beside Cass, eyes darting all over Jason’s body, urgency evident even with the mask. “You’re hurt,” the boy said, unnecessarily pointing out the obvious, because it was not like Jason wasn’t aware of that.

But he couldn’t find the strength in him to shoot back anything, drained beyond exhaustion. All that came out was a shaky half-whimper, accompanied by trembles and a violent, wet cough.

For a moment, there was a flicker of sympathy across Damian’s face before it quickly was dispelled by anger and a hint of fear. “Don’t do something this stupid again.”

Cass looked up and Jason followed with his eyes, seeing a large shadow dropping beside him. Batman. Bruce. His body sagged with relief. He was safe. The danger has passed. The threat was gone and his dad was here.   
Batman slowly ran a gloved hand through his hair. Jason hissed when fingers touched the sore spot on his head and the hand quickly retracted, leaving him to miss it. "I'm sorry, Jay. For not arriving sooner." Bruce's voice was soft, clashing with the dark cowl. "We tried tracking you down as fast as we could-"

"You came," Jason blurted out.

There was a pause before Damian spoke, "Of course we came. There is no reason why we shouldn’t.” The Robin almost sounded offended that Jason could ever even allow such thought to pass through his mind. That he ever doubted his family. His place in the family.

He didn't get to respond as shuddering coughs racked through him again, aggravating every ache on and in his body. His ears screeched as his eyes flashed white and his lungs rattled and screamed. Everything was in scorching agony, leaving him breathless and exhausted.

By the time his head cleared slightly, he noticed that there was something, a voice, rumbling close. Comforting. He didn't even realise that he was crying until he was blinking back his tears. Blackness surrounded him. It was a familiar kind of darkness, one that reminded him of safety and Jason buried himself into Batman's chest, trying stop his breathing from shaking and stuttering, his tears from falling, his body from trembling and his mind from crumbling. A sob still managed to hitch his breath as the whole event of the night finally crashed into him. Every snap of a bone, every slice of a knife, every blow from a crowbar, every zap of electricity, every drop of water entering his airway. His shaky exhale was followed by another sob.

"It's alright, Jay. I've got you." Batman was holding him close, arms around him as fingers picked the cuffs around his wrist. He felt the restraints finally peeling off, the sting dragging out a weak noise from his throat as the metal shifted and pulled at his chaffed and undoubtedly bleeding skin. He flinched at the sound of the metal loudly clattering onto the ground before fingers ran through his hair, this time avoiding the wounds. One hand was carefully manouvering his arms, one broken and the other still gently bleeding, tucking them into his chest as he bit his lip, trying to hold back a cry. "Ready to go home?"

Jason wanted to reply an affirmative, be it something snarky or even a simple nod. But, tired and hurt as he was, all that came out was a trembling whimper and the beginings of a pained mewl. His chest hurts, as does his throat, shallowing his breaths.  
The arms around him tightened before they moved to lift him. Jason whined as everything flared up at once and he curled up into Batman's chest with a trembling whimper, trying to escape the blinding pain and seeking warmth from the shivering cold. The man whispered hushed words of comfort and assurance as Jason's eyes closed.

But he was gently shaken awake before unconsciousness could claim him. "No, Jason. Just stay awake until we get back, okay?"

He pulled his eyes open as he shook his head weakly, his scratching throat making another pained noise, tears prickling at his eyes again. "...'ired... H'rts..." Everything does, throbbing and agonising. He wheezed in a stuttering breath as he felt the beginings of a cough tickling the back of his throat.

"I know. But you need to try alright, lad? Can you do that for me?"

Jason wanted to listen to Bruce, but he really was tired and aching and cold and breathing was getting harder by the second. Holding up a strong, defiant front while getting tortured had been draining; physically, mentally and emotionally. His father said something but the urgent, almost panicked voice faded away, drowned out by the louder noises of his banging skull and ringing ears as spots darkened his vision.

-

It hurts everywhere. It wasn't strong like an overwhelming fire, but more of a simmering boiled water, throbbing lightly yet thrumming constantly. And there was a loud, deafening noise. Steady, growing faster and faster with each shallowing, rapid breath. Like ticking. Or beeping.

_The crowbar. The broken feeling of his body layered with pain. The steady beeping growing faster. Laughter ringing. And he couldn't breathe and the water was suffocating-_

"Jason, it's okay. You're safe."

There was a hand touching his head and he flinched away. But the fingers were unrelenting as he drowned, held under for far too long. A whine tore out of his throat as he tried to breathe anything but the sharp water stinging his lungs and nose.

"Shh... It's alright, Little Wing. Open your eyes. Look at me, please."

He shook his head. He wanted to follow the voice, but the blindfold was too tight and the darkness-

"Then at least breathe with me, okay? You're hyperventilating. Slowly, breathe."

Jason tried. He forced a breath in, squeezing the fingers holding his. His breath came back out in a rush as something in his chest twinged. But the voice coaxed him to try again, and eventually, he could, even if it hurts. The noisy, piercing beeping seemed to have slowed down and he felt that something uncomfortable was pressed onto his face.

"Open your eyes, Jay."

He was beyond exhausted, but he did anyway, squinting as the light shone brightly. Turning to his right, he saw the vague silhouette of his brother through the haze fogging his vision. It looked like they were in the Cave’s med bay.

"Hey."

He wanted to go for a casual hum of a reply. But his body betrayed him with a pained, tired moan.

Dick's hand reached for his head and Jason was too drained to protest the fingers softly brushing his white bangs. "You scared us, you know."

His apology was drowned out and he noticed the oxygen mask for the first time. He frowned at it. He wanted it off.

He moved to remove it but Dick caught his hand before he could lift his limb. "I know you don't like it, but don't. You still need that and you shouldn't move your arm. It is broken." The fingers in his hair paused as Dick's voice wavered. "You weren't- For a moment, you stopped breathing, Jay. It- It was terrifying. And then there were some complications that followed. One of your lungs was punctured and there was water and you didn't wake up and just-" The hand holding his tightened lightly and there was a sharp inhale. "They did a number on you."

"S'rry," Jason managed to quietly breathe out.

"Hey hey... Don't be. We're sorry for not coming soon enough. We tried looking for you immediately after we got your signal, but it took a while to track you down. They covered their tracks well and quickly."

"H'w... long?"

"You were caught?"

Jason shook his head tiredly. He would rather not know that. He knew that it was too long, stretching into hours, and that was enough for him.

"You were out? Nearly a week. When two days passed we grew really worried." The fingers feather-touched the sore areas on his head, probably wrapped in a bandage. "Bruce didn't leave your side ever since he came back from patching himself up and had hardly slept."

Jason followed Dick's gaze with his own, seeing Bruce asleep in a chair to his left, a hand was lightly resting against his casted wrist.

"The others didn't want to either. I didn't." There was a pulse of tightened fingers around his. "But we had to make sure to tend to the city as well our lives. Not to mention wrapping up the case that got you in this mess." There was a light puff of a laugh. "Tim and Damian for once worked together and actually voluntarily voluteered for that. They make a great team."

Jason looked at Bruce, longing for the touch of his father, the cast cacooning his wrist being too thick for him to feel anything, but he didn't want to wake the man up. He turned back to Dick. "Snow?"

His brother frowned. "Hopefully stored away for good. Bruce, Cass and Dami caught him when they found you. I think he was going to be sent to Blackgate? Though I wish it was something greater. Blackgate is too nice for someone who does something like this." There was a fierce fire raging in Dick's eyes. Flames of protective anger.

A small part of Jason wished so as well, although he cannot tell whether it is a part of him representing fear or vengence. He probably would have gone out and killed Snow himself, should this happened several years back. Make it a slow, painful death. But he shouldn't. Wouldn't. Not anymore. He fumbled his hand to squeeze Dick's, hoping to convey his thoughts.

Dick's gentle fingers rubbed and combed through his hair gently, making him involuntarily lean into the soft touch. "Get some rest, Jay."

Jason, despite being thoroughly beyond exhausted, didn't really want to, knowing that nightmares comes to him once he does falls asleep. It was childish and he hated himself for it. He wanted his dad to read to him or card through his hair like back when he was younger. Before he died.

Dick pressed his lips to into Jason's hair, his fingers never pausing. "Sleep. I'll be here and you can see Bruce the next time you wake up."

He wanted to protest, but exhaustion pulled at his eyes and mind, dragging them shut.

"Rest well, Little Wing. I'm glad you're alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I actually wanted to end at the bit where Jason was saved, but then me brain be "Where is the Dick Jason bonding!??! I want them being brothers!". So I had to add that and I do end up liking it. That ending also ended up being more emotional than I thought.  
> Also I ended up making snow and avalanche jokes. Why.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family recieved a distress signal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...... I thought I was done with this. It was supposed to be a one-shot. Simple. But I suddenly got this scene (this Dami panicking scene) and me brains got excited. So I ended up writing a like 'from the family's pov' thing. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ It was fun.
> 
> Also alternate povs are..... something to work with. Not hard. But.... requires a skill.
> 
> Anyway, happy reading!
> 
> (Do note that the last few rounds of editing is done at 2-3 am and I do not have enough coffee. Mistakes may/may not exist)

Soundless, swift, efficient. Batman moved through the hallway quickly, Black Bat and Robin not far behind. Bruce knew that this should be it. This should be the place. Where all the other locations had been empty, this one bore presence; guards hidden at some doorways, vehicles discreetly parked not too far away.

A metal door greeted them, sounds coming from the other side. Robin made quick work of the men guarding the door before Batman tore it open. His mind took less than a second to quickly take in the room. Sixteen men were at the centre, some armed with guns; an empty metal chair not far behind them; and most importantly, one of the men was roughly wrenching a limp Red Hood's head out of a tub of water.

Batman let a batarang fly, hitting the man's hand before throwing himself at the armed goons, knowing that Black Bat and Robin would protect their brother. He placed most of his attention of taking down the guns first before anyone starts shooting, not wanting to add flying bullets to their problem. Even then, he wasn't fast enough as some of the men started to unload their weapons. Batman made himself into a big enough of a target and problem to take their aim away from his children, especially Jason, as he swiftly took them down.

Once the last of the men was knocked out, Bruce ran to Black Bat and Robin, both crouching over Red Hood. He knelt beside Jason as the masked eyes turned to him and the tense shoulders uncoiled with barely guarded relief. Bruce took in the state of the boy as he reached a hand to the drenched bangs; he was mostly soaked, there was a partly burnt knife wound in his left arm, hands were restrained behind him, a leg was probably broken, his breaths were shallow, raspy and uneven, his face was pinched with pain, his hair was bloodied. Bruce quickly pulled back when his fingers touched bleeding wounds at the back of Jason's head and his son let out a pained hiss, his body twitching back sharply. Bruce's worry grew.

He yearned to hold his son, but being uncertain of any internal injuries, he held back, not wanting to hurt the boy further. "I'm sorry, Jay. For not arriving sooner. We tried tracking you down as fast as we could-"

"You came," came the hoarse, quiet voice. His heart dropped. Did Jason actually think that they wouldn't?

"Of course we came," Damian huffed, arms defensively crossing over concern, tone almost offended. "There was no reason why we shouldn’t.”

The young boy startled back when Jason suddenly started to cough, drips of blood splattering onto the ground. This time, Bruce didn't hesitate to pull Jason upright to rest against his chest. The shuddering violent hacking began interlacing with soft gasps of sobs as the body trembled in his arms and Bruce whispered an endless chant of "You're safe. You're okay". He glanced up at Cass, silently telling her to make sure that all the goons lying around the room were restrained, and she nodded, taking Robin with her.  
When it subsided, save for the stiffled, restrained sniffles and hitched breaths, he felt Jason burrowing further into his chest, a sob barely escaping, and Bruce wrapped his arms tighter.

"It's alright, Jay. I've got you." He reached around Jason and picked the handcuffs before slowly peeling it away from raw bleeding wrists; one of them looked broken; as a small pained sound came from the boy, who flinched sharply when Bruce tossed aside the bloodied cuffs. He combed through the blood-matted, wet hair, gently avoiding any littering wounds, as his other hand carefully moved the freed, injured arms to tuck them into his son's chest.

He looked up when Black Bat approached him, giving him a nod. He returned the gesture before turning back to Jason.

"Ready to go home?"

There was a small, weak sound and he took it as an affirmative.

Bruce tried to block out the pained whine coming from Jason as he carefully shifted his arms and lifted his son, who immediately burrowed into his chest, curling up with a small whimper. The rapid, uneven, shallow breaths started to slow down and Jason's head rested limp against him.  
Worried, Bruce gently shook him awake as he quickly made his way out of the room, Robin and Black Bat following behind. "No, Jason. Just stay awake until we get back, okay?" There were too many concerning injuries. Too many risks.

The head leaning against his chest only minutely shook once, a small tired noise accompanying wheezing breaths. "...'ired... H'rts..." came the below whisper-level voice.

Bruce’s heart clenched. "I know. But you need to try alright, lad? Can you do that for me?" Not getting any sort of response, he tried again, "Jason, please? Just until we reach the Cave, okay?" He softly tapped his son's shoulder. "Jay?"

His steps moved faster, scaling hallways and a flight of staircase until he reached the Batmobile. Robin didn't hesitate to throw himself into the car's backseat and helped Bruce eased the unconscious vigilante inside. The boy adjusted Jason so that his brother's head was cradled in his lap as Bruce jumped into the driver's seat and Cass closed the passanger door. The car rumbled to life as Bruce sped through the streets, racing to the Batcave.

The city blurred around them as he pushed the car's speed as high as he dared, skillfully running between other vehicles. He heard Robin reporting to everyone else over their comm line on their status, before he activated his own earpiece, saying, "Nightwing, wait at the Cave." He knew that overwhelming concern would push his eldest to try to get to where they were, but that wouldn't accomplish anything.

"B, I'm already-"

" _Cave_ , Nightwing. Prepare the medical bay and call for Leslie."

There was a space of silence, where Bruce thought Dick was going to protest further, but instead he merely asked, "Is he- How bad is it, B?"

Batman tried to not think about the visible and possible unseen injuries littering his second son. "Get Leslie to the Cave now. He needs her."

Batman switched his comms unit off, cutting off any further discussions, and returned his attention to getting them home as fast and as safe as possible. He longed to look back to make sure that Jason was alright but kept his eyes on the road. He needed to get to Cave _now_.

They were nearing the city border when, "Father!"  
Bruce felt his heart lurched at the fear and ugency in his youngest's voice.  
"Father, he's not breathing! Todd's not- he's stopped... breathing..."

The Batmobile was already at its top speed, dangerously swerving around corners and other vehicles with nearly reckless abandon. The steering wheel vibrated under his tight, tense grip. The Batcave was a minute away.

Hold on, Jason. Hold on, son.

-

Dick paced around the Cave, running his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time. Tim was at the computer, tension evident despite his fingers moving across the keyboard at their natural swift pace; probably typing up tonight's report. And the night hasn't even _begun_ to end. Steph was there too, having followed Red Robin and Nightwing to the Batcave after they were told that their missing family member was found.

The thought made Dick's head spin. Oracle had notified them of Jason's distress signal earlier, coming from an old factory somewhere in the abandoned parts of Gotham. Black Bat, who had been the closest to the location, had gone to inspect it and reported to only find remnants of a fight and struggle. Batman and Robin had immediately gone over there to investigate while Red Robin was sent to team up with Nightwing as they scour the streets for their missing brother, meeting up with Batgirl along the way.

That was four hours ago. They had worked and searched tirelessly throughout the night, anxiety growing with every minute. Every hour passed only filled them with dread as worst case scenarios ran through their heads. It wasn't too hard to imagine; Jason had died before, even if most of them hadn't even _thought_ of picking up their masks when that had happened.

Oracle told them that Red Hood had gone to the factory to take down a gang operating under some man called Brian Snow, who was going by the name of Avalanche. Babs had said that Avalanche wasn't quite new to the criminal underworld but had only started to make himself known after laying low for the last month or so.

It was hours after Jason went missing when Oracle passed them a lead, several suspected locations tied to Avalanche. The Bats resumed with their split teams of three, systematically going through the buildings with great haste and apprehension; uncertain of what they would find, yet hoping for the best while fearing the worst. It was too many minutes of terpidation before Batman reported that they were inflitrating what should be the gang's base or hideout, and it was some minutes after that when Robin informed that they have found Red Hood and were on their way back. A brief discussion with Batman over the comms had Dick running to the Batcave, Tim and Steph following behind. The three of them had arrived to an empty cave; the Batmobile still on its way and Alfred was upstairs, waiting for the doctor; and they dispersed, finding something to occupy their minds.

Dick screwed his eyes shut as he ran a hand through his hair again, fingers tugging at the strands to pull his mind out of dark thoughts and imaginations. He had wanted- was even ready to fight Bruce- to head to Jason as soon as they knew where his brother was, but Dick's sense had won over his sensibility and complied when Batman told him to head home and wait. Dick knew that there would be no use in him running to where Batman was when it would not accomplish anything, but that didn't mean he liked waiting. Dreading. Not knowing whether or not his fears are rational or true.

The door to the manor opened as Alfred walked down with silent urgency, followed closely by Leslie. The roaring sound of the Batmobile's engine thundered and echoed throughout the cave, the sight of the vehicle not far behind, as it screched and swerved to a halt. Doors were thrown open before it even stopped and, within the next second, Batman was already lifting a limp, unmoving body out of the car, Robin close at his heels. Dick quickly rushed after Batman, who didn't stop until he reached the med bay.  
Bruce laid Jason down on the prepared bed as Alfred and Leslie echoed with a sharp inhale before quickly moving to help, the latter throwing a sharp glare at Batman.

Dick's heart stopped, breath catching, when he finally saw his brother's condition, silencing some of his fears and awakening others. Cuts and open wounds littered his body, visible only through the rips and tears in his uniform. His face had some bruises and flecks of minor cuts and his right leg was bent wrong. Not to mention the blood colouring him and that his clothes and hair were wet. The worst part, the most terrifying thing, was his pale white skin and that he wasn't moving or breathing.

-

Steph didn't dare follow Batman to the med bay. It was a mix of not wanting to intrude and a slight fear of what she might see. Tim didn't go in either, hunched over the keyboard, fingers shaking as they clenched the table. He hadn't even turned when Batman had arrived, keeping his eyes on the screen as he froze.  
Robin hovered at the med bay entrance, arms crossed, fingers clenched. The worry for his brother evident behind masked eyes and drawn up hood. Even Steph herself was worried, and the kid had known the severity of Red Hood’s condition, _been_ with his brother through out the entire ride home. The blood speckling Robin's uniform was probably Jason's.

She slowly approach the boy, wanting yet hesitating to wrap an arm around the small shoulders. The kid looked like he could use a hug, but Steph knew Damian enough to know that, even if it came from her, it might not be welcomed. Instead, she placed a hand on his shoulder. Masked eyes turned to her.  
"You need to get changed and make sure that you're not hurt," she said softly. She was aware of the need and compulsion to hover as close to their injured family member as possible, but she also has been taught that sometimes, it is best if you occupy yourself, be productive.

Robin remained silent, turning back inside to the people rushing and working, before nodding, a minute movement. He let her steer him away until they were half-way to the showers, before she stepped back.

Batman had refused to give them any concrete information about Jason's condition on the comms line. But the fact that they needed the doctor, it has to be really bad, right?

She turned to Tim, who still hasn't moved, as a familliar shadow appeared beside her. She didn't need to look to know who it was. "So, how bad was it?"

"Damian said he stopped breathing."

Steph snapped her gaze to Cass. The elder had already changed out of her Black Bat costume. "He's... not..."

"He'll pull through." They both turned to Tim, whose back was still turned to them. "He _has_ to or I'll _drag_ _him back myself_." For a moment, his voice dripped with masking anger, but when he turned to them, his face was blank. "Jason is strong. We need to trust him." With that, he quickly walked past them to the stairs.

Cass gave her a nod. "Check our Robins." She then rushed after Tim into the manor.

_Check on our Robins. We should make sure our Robins are okay._

Steph sighed and fell back into the vacant computer chair, waiting for Damian to come back.  
Waiting for a good news.

-

Tim stopped at the door to his room. "I'll be alright, Cass."

His sister tilted her head as she slid beside him, slipping her hand in his. "I cannot be lied to." There was a small hint of a smile.

Tim huffed a humourless laugh. "Well, what else am I supposed to say?"

Nothing, was all Cass said with a squeeze of a hand and her silence.

He sighed, resting his forehead on the wooden door. "Sometimes, I wish... I wish we could just..." _stop getting hurt. Stop worrying eachother._

"I know," Cass gave a small nod. "But that is not Bats. We are Bat, that is what we do. You do that too."

Tim returned his sister's grin. "I cannot deny that." Before the solemn air returned. "Do you... think he'll be fine?"

Cass tilted her head, resting it on the door with her arms crossed. "Fine... live, maybe. But fine, I cannot tell."

"He needs to."

"I cannot deny that." Cass then leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Sleep, little brother. Worry for Jason in the morning. There would be news then."

"You should too." Tim straightened and turned the doorknob as she walked away. Just as he opened it, he quickly added, "And thanks Cass."

She stopped at her own room. "Batgirls and Robins," was all she said before disappearing.

 _Batgirls and Robins._ A smile tugged at Tim's lips as he closed the door behind him. His room at the manor wasn't a place he permanently lived in, preffering the solitude of his apartment and Nest in the city. But there were situations that called him back to his home. A horribly hurt family member was one of them. He collapsed onto his bed, not bothering to slip under the covers, as he closed his eyes. Sleep eluded him, his mind instead pulling out worst case scenarios. He wished Bruce told them more about Jason's condition. Damian had only gave a quick list of broken bones, superficial knife wounds, drowned and other vague descriptions. And he overheard Cass saying that Jason had stopped breathing.

Tim felt the familiar vengeful anger bubbling inside him. _Drowned_. If he's to guess, Avalanche's gang were trying to either kill his brother, or hurt him. He liked neither. No one kills, hurts, or worse, _tortures_ his brother without regretting it. Except for Joker, the clown always stupidly being an exception for many things. But even _he_ didn’t get to escape the Bats’ wrath.

Tim didn't know how much time passed before his window slid open and fingers tapped on the sill. "You're awake," was Damian's blunt, straight-forward greeting. At least he had the courtesy of waiting for an invitation before entering.

Tim sat up, looking at his brother through the darkness. "Why are you here?"

"I was looking for you." The small Robin jumped over the table by the window, landing infront of him.

His brows furrowed. The kid could not have come here for comfort, the younger would go to Dick for that. Not to mention, Damian was using the tone he would use if he wanted to make a proposal. A suggestion of a course of action and he was afraid that people might disagree.

"I am here to recruit you for your experties." _I require your assistance_ , Tim understood.

"Why? What do you need me for?"

"I am planning an attack to 'tie up loose ends'," Damian made actual air-quotes, "of Brian Snow's operations. I believe you would be inclined to join me?" Despite the younger's confident front, Tim knew his brother enough to see through to the wavering uncertainty underneath.

Tim contemplated it for a moment. Batman would no doubt find a way to look into the case _eventually_. But Tim's thirst for vengence was still rattling. Besides, if he didn't agree, Robin might end up either calling Batgirl for help, or going out on his own.

-

Bruce swept the white bangs back from unflickering closed eyes. It has been three days since they rescued Jason and his son has yet to wake up. His fingers stroked the cast wrapping the broken and chaffed wrist before moving to wrap around the limp hand.  
His son nearly died. He nearly lost his son again. It took hours to stablise Jason and sometime more to make sure he wouldn't fall back. Leslie had given him barbed words afterwards, her tone curbed but sharp. He couldn’t wholly disagree with them. There were times when he regretted bringing them into the vigilante life. Into _his_ life.

The heart monitor beeped consistently as the ventilator steadily supplied oxygen. Cast cacconed broken bones as bandages wrapped wounds. Lacerations, cuts, breaks, concussion, pierced lung-

Footsteps hesitated in the doorway, before they slowly entered. Dick took a seat across from him. "You need rest too, Bruce," was all he said.

Bruce chose to not answer as his eyes didn't move to his eldest.

There was a sigh before silence befell them. He sensed Dick contemplating his words, sorting through thoughts, trying to think of the best way to phrase a question that had no doubt been ringing in his mind for days. Bruce, quite frankly, had assumed that Damian or Cass had told everyone else. But the eldest had probably refrained from getting information from either of them, not wanting them to relieve those memories.

Bruce saved his son from asking by answering the unspoken question. "Interogation."

Dick wasn’t surprised. "What did they want?"

Bruce shook his head. "I didn't get to know." Still sensing restrained curiousity from the younger, Bruce spoke again, "Slashed, shocked, beaten and drowned repeatedly." He looked up to meet blue eyes. "For approximatedly three hours straight."

Dick looked down at his brother's face, a hand reaching out to curl around the unmoving right hand. "I... I looked at the reports.” His voice was small. “There was a crowbar. They used a crowbar on him, Bruce." They all know Jason's fear-disguised-as-mere-despise for the tool.

"We'll help him, Dick."

Dick looked up to him. "Will we have a chance to? Will he-" _wake up?_  
Three days might not confirm the worst, but it is long enough to be beyond concerning.

"We have to believe in him, chum. We need to believe that he will make it."

"Yeah... of course he would." Before Dick added with a watery smile, looking down at his hands, "I mean, not even death kept him down."

Bruce watched as his eldest fiddled with his own fingers, occasionally brushing over the unmoving bandaged wrist, anxious concern bleeding out of his actions. Bruce had yet to leave the room after Alfred forced him to shower, change and look over any of his injuries days ago. He hasn't checked on his children; unlike what he as a father should doing; only seeing them whenever they quietly slip inside the room to sit on the empty chair. "How is everyone else?"

"Steph stayed the first night but had gone home in the afternoon. She's worried, asking us about Jason everytime we crosspath on patrol. I think... Tim is still preparing for the worst but Cass had been distracting him and I think it is helping. Damian was- is scared. He went to my room two nights ago, woken up by a nightmare and had been sleeping with me. It... it helps both of us."

Bruce let out a silent breath of relief. At least he hadn't sacrificed his other kids' well-being in keeping vigil by one of them. He probably needed to go out soon and actually make sure that they are alright, but the nagging fear that he might lose his son again should he turn away, rooted him into the room.

"Oh, Tim and Damian had also worked to take down whatever that was left of the Avalanche guy's operation. He was planning to build something bigger when Red Hood stepped in." Dick reached a gentle hand to brush Jason's hair, eyes lingering on the oxygen mask.

Bruce glanced up, prompting.

"It went well. Although they went behind my back and didn't tell anyone. Cass said she knew but had kept it to herself. I didn't really want to scold them, because..." Dick's eyes darted away from Bruce to Jason. "They should have at least said something."

"Were they hurt?"

"Fortunately, no. I just ended up telling them to never do that again, even though they actually might?" With a sigh, Dick stood up and turned to leave. "I should head back up for dinner." An indirect invitation. "Get some rest later, B."

Bruce stayed where he was.

-

Peeking inside, Dick saw that Bruce was sleeping, a rare sight but not too surprising. His adoptive father hadn't slept for a week. His eyes moved down to the unmoving figure on the bed. His brother had been asleep for a week.  
He slipped in, quietly taking a seat on the empty chair. The past week had been exhausting on an emotional level. Dick had spent the last few days worrying over his brother who hasn't woken up, his father who refused to break his vigil, and his other siblings who had been caught in a mess of anxiety, nightmares and self-sentenced silence. Alfred had been a great help, but he knew that he needed to take charge and fulfill his role as an eldest brother. Steph had been occasionally staying at the manor whenever she followed one of them home. From time to time, they all would slip back into their normal rackous routine of playful attacks, teasing insults and fake threats. They all tried to hold onto the hope that their brother would make it. One week without regaining consciousness was _not too long_.

Dick was snapped out of his thoughts by the slightest of movement. His eyes darted to Jason's right hand, a twitch. Before the fingers pressed and clawed at the sheets. His brother's breathing got faster as does his heart rate, brows furrowing, and Dick jumped into action.  
He held the struggling hand in his, whispering, "Jason, it's okay. You're safe." Not seeing a pause in the muted struggle, he reached a hand to brush through his brother's hair, but immediately got a flinch and a gasping, stuttered breath. There was a muffled noise coming from the younger and Dick tried again, softly brushing his fingers against his brother's jaw. "Shh... It's alright, Little Wing." He tried to tamp down his own panic. "Open your eyes. Look at me, please."

He felt a flutter of relief as he got a response, even if it was a small shake of a head.

"Then at least breathe with me, okay?" he coaxed gently. "You're hyperventilating. Slowly, breathe."

Jason finally inhaled but it was shallow and air was lost as he let out a whimpering whine, fingers still clawing at the white blanket, clenched-shut eyes glistening.

"Again, Jay. You can do it. Slowly. Breathe in."

This time Jason held as Dick gently guided him. Slowly the breaths evened out from one another and the heart monitor quieted down.

"Open your eyes, Jay." Hazy teal eyes inched open before turning to him. "Hey."

There was a soft tired moan in response.

Dick moved his hand to card through white-streaked black locks and felt minute pressure pressed onto his fingers. "You scared us, you know."

Jason said something but his words were drowned out the the mask. There was twitch of a frown before his hand made to move up.

Dick quickly caught it, suddenly-panicked eyes darting to him, and quickly said, "I know you don't like it, but don't. You still need that and you shouldn't move your arm. It is broken." He faltered before continuing, "You weren't- For a moment, you stopped breathing, Jay. It- It was terrifying. And then there were some complications that followed. One of your lungs was punctured and there was water and you didn't wake up and just-" He cut off his ramble and squeezed the fingers in his. "They did a number on you."

There was a second of silence before there was a quiet, "S'rry." Dick didn’t hear the words as much as he could read it on his brother’s lips.

"Hey hey... Don't be." Dick stroked the fingers in his hand. "We're sorry for not coming soon enough. We tried looking for you immediately after we got your signal, but it took a while to track you down. They covered their tracks well and quickly."

A beat of silence was followed by a hardly audible, "H'w... long?"

Dick tilted his head. "You were caught?"

Jason slowly shook his head, a movement so small that Dick might have missed it if his hand wasn't still resting on his brother's head.

"You were out?" A small noise of affirmation. "Nearly a week. When two days passed we grew really worried." Dick's fingers brushed against the bandages covering the concussing wounds on the back of Jason's head. "Bruce didn't leave your side ever since he came back from patching himself up and had hardly slept."

His eyes darted to their father who amazingly hasn't woken up throughout the entire time Jason had been awake.

"The others didn't want to either. I didn't. But we had to make sure to tend to the city as well our lives. Not to mention wrapping up the case that got you in this mess." He let out a light laugh, remembering the moment he found his two youngest brothers leaving an empty burning building. "Tim and Damian for once worked together and actually voluntarily voluteered for that. They make a great team." The two of them had even defended eachother.

Jason's tired eyes turned back to him. "Snow?"

Dick frowned at the mention of the man. The criminal. "Hopefully stored away for good. Bruce, Cass and Dami caught him when they found you. I think he was going to be sent to Blackgate?" He felt a sudden surge of anger as he seethed, "Though I wish it was something greater. Blackgate is too nice for someone who does something like this."

The fingers wrapped around his squeezed his hand softly. A silent agreement.

Dick went back to carding through Jason's locks, feeling the head turn slightly to lean into it, teal eyes sliding close. "Get some rest, Jay."

There was a slight catch in his brother's breath and tired eyes dragged open and darting momentarily to the left, to Bruce, longing swirling in them. He knew his brother enough to understand that Jason didn't want to sleep. Nightmares had never left him, never left any of them.

Dick brushed back white bangs again, pressing his lips to into Jason's hair. "Sleep. I'll be here and you can see Bruce the next time you wake up."

He felt a small shake of a head, but in the end, exhaustion won over as Jason's eyes closed.

"Rest well, Little Wing." Dick squeezed the hand in his. "I'm glad you're alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admitedly, the suspense partly loses its effect since we kinda know that he would be alright back in chapter one but... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> I have a short half written potential chapter 3. I just have no clue if I would get it out soon. I might take months. I might take some hours. I really cannot say. But I am leaving this as completed since I might never put it up.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you all have enjoyed that. Or at least relatively.
> 
> I also exist on tumblr: lulaypp (writing), foriland (main/where I do everything else). Feel free to pop by either.


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